Band Back
by TheBooksofEli
Summary: Mordecai and Rigby have rekindled the glory of their Mordecai and the Rigbys days once more with the help of Eileen. Will they manage to bring the band back, or will one gig change everything? Rated M for the rocker lifestyle - sex, drugs and rock and rol
1. Once A Band, Always A Band

**Chapter 1 - Once A Band, Always A Band**

PRESENT DAY: 8:25 PM, HOUSTON LIVESTOCK SHOW AND RODEO - NRG STADIUM

* * *

Mordecai opened the door backstage. The lights above the ceiling danced as the diamonds in the chandelier shook. On a nearby mirror, a mistress wrote in lipstick:

"CALL ME, RIGBY

818-346-0432"

A familiar groan came from the end of the room. Rigby was seated in a velvet red chair with lopsided shades on, fogged from the secondhand.

"Hey! Get up! We're on in 5. You're NOT about to flake out on another one, especially not here!"

Rigby could barely function.

"Yeah, it's...fine...Rodeo, man, it's all...Hey, are you moving?"

"You are!" shot Mordecai, yanking Rigby up on his feet, though that only made Rigby faceplant the floor.

"Don't tell me you're drunk too! Dude! Get up, now! I'm not getting a chair for you up there! RIGBY!"

No response. Rigby was out like a light.

"Hello? Guys, let's go, you're on!" said their manager.

"Gimme a minut', I need'a piss!" Rigby suddenly blurted.

Mordecai panicked, every thought he ever had suddenly sped through his mind all at once, he could only help but think:

What's happened to us?...What the hell's happened to us?

* * *

18 MONTHS AGO, 9:32 PM, AT THE COFFEE SHOP

* * *

"Look, we've become rich and famous because of lip synching, don't you want to be apart of that?"

"NO, THAT'S LAME! You may be me, but that's not the me _I_ want to be!"

"Me neither!"

"MORDECAI AND THE RIGBYS IS OVER!" they said as they undressed, watching their future selves slowly fade away.

"WOAH WOAH!" their futures both said at once, dismissing their fake accents.

"Ok, dude! Think about what you're doing!"

"Yeah, stop man!"

"If you break up the band, what are we gonna do in the future?!"

"I wouldn't want to ruin the surprise!"


	2. Crunch Time

**Chapter 2 - ****Crunch Time**

PRESENT DAY, 8:02 AM

* * *

It was Saturday at the park. Downstairs, the last clean spoon was won over by Rigby.

"Like everyday, Rigby, it's clockwork. Breakfast at 8, work till 5, lunch, then you're left to your own devices at 8 - workday over."

Rigby sifted through the bran in his cereal. "See, half of what you said doesn't even apply to me. You're gonna have to speak my language more often instead of speaking _Boring."_

"Fine. I guess I didn't start your morning off as entertaining as usual," said Mordecai sarcastically.

"That's right. Now if you want to make it up to me, you'll come with me to the midnight premiere of _The Winter Soldier_ with me."

"Oh, I wouldn't mind that actually, I've only heard good things about it."

"Then it's settled."

"No, wait, I forgot. I'm teaching CJ how to play the guitar today."

"Oh. I bet I could teacher her a lesson or two. Ya know what I'm say-in'?"

"NO. BUT I WOUKD GET THAT HEAD OUT OF THE GUTTER."

"Chill out! I was talking about how to play the harmonica like Bobbie Dylan, geez!"

Benson turned the corner and knocked on the wall. "You two better finish fast. We're about to spilt up the tasks and I want you and everyone else there. Got it?"

"Alright, we'll be there. Just give us a few minutes."

"Ok, just finish fast." Benson passed the hall and went out the door and closed the door with unprecedented ease (as opposed to impatient hassle).

"Wow. He's never this calm."

"Wonder what he's on today," said Rigby, but afterwards got slapped on the back of the head.

"Cut it out, Rigby, it's probably a raise. Don't blow this for us."

Rigby got out of chair and walked to the door. "What? He couldn't have heard that. Plus Benson's never said the word raise since our first week on the job."

* * *

Moments later, Benson was pleased to announce:

"Everyone listen up. We're going to be visited by professionals later today — we don't know what they specialize in but we know they know how to enhance other people's futures; and, if we can impress them, they'll consider promoting only a few of us to something different — maybe even our own dream jobs. But this doesn't necessarily mean you'll lose your job here, you'll just make more money."

"But, Benson, we already like it here!" flattered Muscle Man.

"But we've all had dreams, right?"

"Some more wet than others," Rigby whispered to Mordecai.

"Aw, sick!"

Benson looked up at the both of them at the top of the stairs. "Rigby, you seem eager to speak. Tell us your dream."

"Well, there was this one lady, and she-"

Mordecai slugged Rigby in the arm before he could finish. "He meant something you've always wanted to do, wise one."

"Oh, well, I've always wanted to grow my hair out like Duff McKagan and play live."

Mordecai look ed back at Benson and was now pointing at Rigby. "That's partly what I was thinking, too."

"Well then, we'll see. And this goes for all of you, let's get this place spic and span for them. We don't want to miss out on this opportunity, so... Muscle Man, trash duty. I'll clean the garage. Skips, haul that pile of odd rocks by the fountain outside of the park. Hi Five Ghost, fertilize the soil around the trees. And Thomas, you'll trim all the trees around the house. Then Mordecai and Rigby, clean the whole house inside. Alright, let's hop to it everyone!"

_"UGGH!- we ALWAYS get the boring ones, you're killing me!"_

Mordecai and Rigby walked back into the house. "Keep whining and you'll never get your dream job."

_"I know! But is it worth it if we have to clean EVERYTHING?"_

"Yeah, it really is."


	3. Egg-cellent Beginnings

**Chapter 3 - Egg-cellent ****Beginnings**

Mordecai stared into the desolate crowd of no one through purple lenses.

Rigby approached a distracted Mordecai, "Why did you bring those?"

"It's a collector's pair, Rigby; Joplin-type sunglasses don't sell cheap."

Rigby snatched them from his eyes and found the inscription on the metal, "These were made in China."

"Ok, maybe they weren't _official_ merchandise, or expensive for that matter, but they're still cool."

"You know what would go good with these? A light brown leather jacket with tassels and a matching pair of custom ariat boots."

"No. But you know what _does_ sound good now? Omelets."

"Aw, man, we just ate. I'm full," said Rigby louder.

"Hush, dude, you don't want Benson to hear you, do you? Plus, I barely had anything. Now, what's the fastest way to the Coffee Shop?"

"The hole on the fence is over on the right. See you there!" Rigby ran out on all fours onto the sidewalk and didn't stop until he was clear past the corner.

"Not cool, dude, you know how heavy Techmo made these things," said Mordecai to Rigby as he hauled out animatronic versions of themselves, complete with their pristine, realistic looks.

* * *

Eileen set the two plates of omelets in front of them both. "Wow, guys, nobody ever orders the omelets. There a special occasion?"

"Nah, we felt the need." Mordecai sent the first forkful of egg into his mouth.

"Actually, I've been meaning to ask, why don't we ever play anymore?" Rigby asked.

Mordecai lowered his eyebrows and reluctantly treated the question like it was more than obvious. "Um...one: because we're 23, and two: I'm not a child anymore."

"Not at all man, you took that question completely the wrong way, I meant why don't we start strumming as a band anymore, ya know, as the Mordecai and the Rigbys? Technically, isn't everyone at the park apart of it?"

"So am I, and yeah, that's so true. You two would work fine together. I've had managerial experience in my time."

"Woah, woah, woah, take it easy both of you. You remember what happened every time we tried to?"

"Yeah, major disaster, so what? We actually had it together last time but we passed out of heat exhaustion, we could have pulled it off if only Benson wasn't so pissy."

"If only Benson were more of a push-over."

Eileen and Rigby lit up with enthusiasm and asked in unison, **"So you're in?"**

"Well, I guess we can manage all three of us. Plus we have a good manager unlike the last times."

"Yeah, Thomas just isn't cut out for managing."

"Or British accents, " Eileen raised a finger to the air. "I, on the other hand, have got your back."

"Sweet," said Rigby, "then it's settled."

"One condition," Mordecai urged "...we stay local."

"Oh, sure thing." Eileen assured. "I know a bunch of joints where you'll get easy gigs."

"How would you know that?"

"Uh...I get around?"

Rigby shrugged, "Eh, works for me."


	4. House Guests

**Chapter 4 - House Guests**

"Those idiots!"

Benson staggered into the drafty house he specifically asked them both to clean.

"Mordecai and Rigby! Are you two boneheads even in here?"

A car skidded into a stop, at the front of the house, Benson's ears rang with angst as he heard two distinct voices greeting hi park employees outside.

"Crap! They're here!" Benson flipped his gumball body around and made haste to the other side of the threshold, guarding the door behind him. Only to be approached by the two special men whom he ironically hoped would come.

"Are you Benson?"

Benson coughed up a light "Why, yes, I am."

To his surprise, the two stone-hard-looking men chiseled big smiles and both reached out for anxious handshakes.

"How nice to see you, Benson." One spoke. "Say, your friends back there gave a great greeting; and this place, amazing. We can't wait to see the inside."

Benson sidestepped. "Um, no. Not right now."

"What's the matter, Benson," said the second man. "Trust us, we've seen great indoor homes far and wide, and I bet your home is nonetheless spectacular!"

"Actually, about that, it's-I-"

"Show them the inside, Benson!" Skips called out enthusiastically, cupping his hands around his mouth, echoed by Pops second, and the rest encouraged.

"Show us the house, Benson. We promise we won't burst into dust at its beauty," the first man approached the doorknob, slightly annoyed by Benson's hesitation, but playing it safe with a wise crack.

"But it's- you just can't! Please!"

"Oh, for crying out loud, man, we came here to help you out any way we can. We may be a new and original, slightly unorthodox business, but displeasing us will get you and your friends nowhere!"

The two men brushed Benson aside and walked in to the messy house. Benson and the rest, distraught and motionless, expected the worst, but instead, the two men beamed radiantly.

Benson hangs his head in his hands. "Oh, brother. This is-"

"Absolutely riveting!" One spoke, changing Benson's ending.

"What?"

"Just look at the creativity lurking all around," the same man widened his hands out to the whole house. He examined the stairs.

"See here!" he called to his companion. "Look how detailed the small mounds of dust are so carefully stocked against the wood here."

"Or how the soda stains are scattered everywhere so unpredictably all along the carpet! Like a plush, fuzzy dalmatian!" said the other, flattening out on the ground and giving the ground a great big carpet angel. At this, the gang winced at the odd scene playing out in the distance.

"Or here! The couch has holes where you wouldn't want it to be, the centers of the pillows, the seats of the couch cushions, almost like a wild animal tore through!"

Muscle Man leaned in to Fives with a soft-spoken remark, "That's because some wild animal named Rigby rage-quitted all over it!", and they both laughed. This drew the two men's attention to Muscle Man.

"Excuse me, Mitch-"

"Call me Muscle Man, bro," he interrupted.

"We'd prefer not to." Their smiles disappeared and became annoyed glances. "As we were saying, we overheard you two, and did we happen to catch you naming the genius behind the decor?"

"Yeah, Rigby? But it's not just him that made all this mess, just another loser that works here. Mordecai. But they're far from being geniuses."

"Hardly!" the other man remarked in mixed rejection and amazement at Muscle man's response.

"Why, these two fine young men have dazzled our eyes like none other! Never in all my years has anyone _ever_ risked such a spectacle such as this. There is a remarkable technique here, I can clearly see they've captured the 'Party Animal' mood and overall flair top-notch!"

The other added, "This is by far the greatest-looking house I've ever seen by far!"

Benson spoke up courageously, "Wow! This is incredible! Does this mean you'll stay and see what else we have to offer?" Benson ended, starving, begging for a yes, he could already see his dreams flooding the inside of his head like a faucet to a sink.

"Oh, heavens no." One of the two said, both of them returned to their crotchety, stoney selves.

None of the others, not even Benson, had anything left to say, their mouths just hung open; confused, conflicted, hurt, angered, dazed, ill, they all at once felt.

"It's been a pleasure doing business with you all, but you lost the deal when we lost our cool." They both walked together to the door and stopped in front of Benson.

"And as for you, learn how to properly greet your house guests, and maybe, just maybe, we'll be back to see 'what else you have to offer' then," breathed the other man down Benson's throat, which Benson gulped on. The two men gently walked past the others without another look or sound, the car doors shut not too long after and they were off.


	5. She Came In Through The Bedroom Window

**Chapter 5 - She Came In Through the Bedroom Window**

Mordecai and Rigby raced back throught the hole in the fence - only to be greeted by angry grimaces.

"Welcome back," Benson grunted.

"Benson, look, it's not what you think at all-"

"I DON'T CARE _WHAT_ YOU HAVE TO SAY! WE JUST GOT THROUGH WITH THE EMPLOYERS, AND YOU KNOW WHAT THEY DID? **THEY PRAISED THE CRAP YOU IDIOTS LEFT AROUND, WHICH MADE THEM COMPLETELY OVERLOOK ALL THE HARD WORK WE'VE PUT IN TO MAKING THE LIVING ROOM LOOK NICE!"**

Benson snorted through his nostrils and hung his head for a moment, Skips laid his hand on his shoulder for a moment and picked up the argument.

"What do you two have to say for yourselves? 'Cause you _really_ screwed yourselves over on this one."

Mordecai started, "Um...At least they bothered to show up?"

"YOU'RE FIRED!"

"Wait! Benson you can't just-" Rigby tried defending.

"AND SO ARE YOU!** _BOTH_** OF YOU JUST CLEAN OUT YOUR ROOM AND HAVE ALL YOUR STUFF READY TO LEAVE IN THE MORNING! _**EARLY**_ IN THE MORNING!"

* * *

_Later that night... at 10:00 PM_

* * *

"I can't believe it, we're both actually getting fired at the same time, dude."

"Rigby, this is serious? What do we do now?"

"I say we crack that safe in his office and hit it off!"

"No, Rigby, you don't even know how to solve a two-step equation, how would you crack a safe?"

"That doesn't matter! I don't see you coming up with any bright ideas. Why don't we just beg him for our jobs tomorrow?"

"Look, we'll just wake up really early and finish all our jobs, ALL of them, then he'll be the one begging us to stay!"

Just then, a slight tap and a rattle caressed the side of the wall.

"Dude, you hear that?"

"It's coming from outside."

Down below, Mordecai and Rigby watched Eileen cling to the windowsill.

"Little help, fellas?"

They helped her sprwal in through the door, bruising her knee on entrance. In her fist, she clenched a tight ball of paper.

"What's that for?" asked Rigby.

"Glad you asked. It's about the band-"

"Umm...Eileen..."

"Sorry, Eileen," Mordecai started, "it's over. We were both fired today - there's not gonna_ be _a Mordecai and the Rigbys revival."

"What?"

"Yeah, Benson finally did it."

"Not to worry, guys. With the gig I got you," Eileen flattened out the crumpled paper in her hand on the floor out in front of them. "Your so-called "jobs" will become a moot point."

"Is this...THE Brahm Flats Staccato Arena?"

"That's right, Rigby."

"Dude! We saw Sonic Youth live there! This is amazing!"

"Glad you thinks so," Eileen grinned.

"When are we going?" asked Mordecai.

"Right now," said Eileen, throwing a hand over her shoulder and pointing out the window.

"Now? But-"

"Save it, Mordecai. Besides, weren't you two fired anyway?"

'Well, yeah, but it's just-"

"Mordecai, Rigby, you've got the chance of a lifetime, to become somebody, to get your names out there. And let's be honest, were you two _anything_ special to the rest of the guys here?"

"Benson always _did_ treat us like a free hand," recalled Rigby.

Mordecai let Eileen's reply swim through his head, maybe he _was _just another employee, maybe he was part of the family - and like any other family, gets into trouble, argues, deceives, but there was more, there was a bond; he's been part of a team per many occasions like battling the rival park, fighting to stop Exit 9B, amongst other events. And what about leaving in general? He'd miss all the precios places that came to his memory - the coffee shop, the house, their room - Mordecai paused a moment to look at the floor, noticing mirages of the past come back to life: the hole in the wall, the unicorns, a not-so-pleaseant memory of his depression phase. Suddenly, he remembered Benson again who pledged on a daily basis to fire them - he and Rigby were expendable to him. Everybody held something against them both - their play-before-work credo, their lackadaisical effort, their crazy lifestyles, meddling relationships in park progress and of course endangering everybody at the park nearly every week. It all became crystal clear to Mordecai - they were a team but a team built on quantity, not quality.

"Well, Mordecai, are you in?" Eileen stared at his unfathomable eyes.

Mordecai looked up from the ground.

"I'm in."


	6. Showtime!

**Chapter 6 - Showtime!**

6 HOURS LATER...

* * *

The shop roared with anticipation.

"Rigby, you sure?"

"Are you kidding? What do you think that croud is cheering for? This is our time! Our show!"

"What if we screw up?"

"No chance! C'mon bro, we've mastered this song like 20 times on Rock Band - perfect score, 100%, gold-medaled - whatever! There's no way we can mess up this setlist!"

"I don't even know what's in our setlist!"

"Then look!" Rigby pulled out the crumpled paper in his pocket.

"I Want You To Want Me (Live at Budokan) Cover, Pretty Fly (For A White Guy), This Ain't A Scene (It's An Arms Race), Heart-Shaped Box and Sweet Emotion?Dude, this is totally gonna backfire on us!"

"Forget it, man, we'll be admired either way! Now let's get out there and kick rock's ass!"

"Agreed!" shouted Eileen from the other side of the curtain, poking her head in. "I just announced you guys, get your crap together in 5 seconds or the show's over!"

"Okay, okay! Whatever! Let's just get this over with!"

The curtains drew back and the lights blared on them both, Eileen raced to the back to accompany on the drums, as soon as she got ready, she tapped her drumsticks togerther and Rigby took off:

"I want YOU to want...ME!"

And the show began.


	7. Night Moves

Chapter 7 - Night Moves

"Woo-hoo! Screw it Eileen, I don't care if I missed a couple frets on that last one, this show...kicked-"

"Rigby, that's not the point! You don't get it! That was our deciding gig, make it or break it!"

"Calm down, Eileen, it was a fun night, I'm sure whoever was in the audience will love our covers. I mean, c'mon we put on a great show - except for those frets...and, Mordecai getting hospitalized after his spine got dislocated surfing the crowd, but everything else was just fine and you know it!"

"Yeah? I don't see anyone coming over to offer us our next gig! Do you?"

"Eileen, stop it, we shouldn't be fighting now, not after our first gig! It's just stupid!"

"Oh,_ I'm _sorry I care more about this band than you do, Rigby!" spat Eileen, storming out the back exit.

"Eileen, wait!" said Rigby chasing after her. They both stopped under the spotlight of a lamppost in the chill of a light rain. "Look, I'm sorry, this was our first gig, and I guess I just felt overconfident-"

**"DAMN RIGHT YOU DID, RIGBY. YOU'LL NEVER UNDERSTAND T-"** Eileen paused and tugged the collar of her coat closer to her. She looked into his eyes and said softly, "Since you won't start shaping up for me, you've lost your manager, _and_ your drummer, and not only that, but you've lost me too. We're through, Rigby. Goodnight."

At this, Rigby looked down in regret, then he thought of something. Briskly, hardly thinking about it, he yanked Eileen's arm and turned her to face him. The look on her face suggested she anticipated an apology, no longer looking angry but more satisfied. She knew him like the back of her hand.

"Oh, I intend to."

Rigby almost forced his lips onto hers, gladly, she accepted this form of apology. He met his hands around her waist and she wrapped her arms around his face. The rain intensified, the light shined brighter now, but they just stood there on he corner of the sidewalk, motionless, they went on for what seemed like hours on end, until a car raced past them and soaked them both in street water. Laughing about how cliché this seemed, they locked each other's hands together and ran all the way back to Eileen's apartment. As Eileen swayed into the hallway, Rigby sped to Eileen's ONKYO turntable and flipped record after record until he found it, the cream of the crop, the pièce de résistance, Eric Clapton's Slowhand, Side 1, Track 2. Rigby untucked his shirt, untied his tie, and dropped everything else to the floor, Eileen patiently watched from the thin, silky side of the golden bedsheets. As soon as you could hear the lullaby that is Clapton's voice, they were locked arm in arm, body in body, passionately rocking back and forth to the rhythm. Rigby turned sideways, feeling every inch of his prized possession one soft stroke at a time.

"Wonderful Tonight."

"Yes it is," Rigby chuckled.

"No, no," Eileen giggled back at him. "I mean the song."

"I know, I know, just being cheeky s'all."

"You always pick my favorites," she said with smile. Suddenly, Rigby got off of the bed, grabbed her hips and locked hers with his then reached underneath hers and locked his arms together.

"Hold on."

"Oh, are we going on a ride?"

"You can, I'm just changing the song. "Lay Down Sally" ruined the moment.

Rigby brought her up and brought her to the living room as gently as humanely possible (though one must imagine it must be extremely difficult for someone like Rigby to do that when someone of his same proportions was slowly going down on him). Rigby took the needle off the record and slipped a cassette labeled "Good Vibrations" into a separate player (good thing it was sitting 2 inches away from the player!).  
The first track featured Bryan Adams slowly pulsed through the speakers. Rigby lied Eileen down on the sofa and softly rocked deeper, everything was in slow motion now, they were both on the dance floor, alone and unknown to each other. She saw him and he saw her; Rigby turned his head and continued to sip his spirit of choice and kept her in his peripherals, she saw him come closer, he could feel the hot, salty sweat well and recede down the fibers of his Lou Reed t-shirt. She sat next to him at the counter, touched his shoulder, and grinned, he wouldn't budge; true to the chorus, it _was_ hard for Rigby to believe he was in heaven. He thought about dancing with her, she looked disappointed and turned to leave. Without even noticing it, he was tugging her to the center of the dance floor and brought her closer to him. He bent their locked arms and used the other to brush her hair from her face; the lights changed colors as they swimmingly spun in tiny circles. Someone killed the lights, and the spotlight shone on only them. Rigby leaned her over and finished out the song staring into her eyes; Rigby opened his eyes and the fantasy faded away, he found Eileen fast asleep, still wet and naked. He found a rag in the kitchen and looked at the receiver - 4:20, 13 missed calls from Benson, 2 voicemails from Benson, and 3 voicemails from Margaret. Rigby listened to Benson's voicemails rattle through his ears:

**"RIGBY! WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN?! I'VE BEEN TRYING TO GET A HOLD OF YOU! NO CALL, NO-"** Next: **"RIGBY ANSWER THE DAMN PHONE! I KNOW YOU'RE THERE! I HAD TO GET MARGARET TO GIVE ME THIS NUMBER! WHERE IS MORDECAI? WHY HAVEN'T EITHER OF YOU SHOWN UP AT THE HOUSE ALL DAY?!..If you don't come back here by tomorrow, _both_ of you ARE F-"** Next: "Eileen, hey, it's Margaret. I'm gonna have to stay out later than I thought. Mordecai's-" Next: "Hey, it's me again, my car just got towed, so I'm-" Next: "I'm 5 minutes away, hey, by the way, did you leave the casserole in the fridge for me?-" Rigby looked back down the hallway and saw Margaret's sleeping in her own bed. Rigby passed out next to Eileen, staring at her until he too passed out into a euphoric, erotic daze.


End file.
